Article by Jonathan Lewis
Some of you may be anticipating an update from our new sharpie while we sit blissfully afloat on the inland sheltered waters of the Netherlands. We’re in Holland but instead of listening to wavelets stroke the gently sweeping flat bottom, our ears are subjected to the jarring sound of the starting gun of Olympic track events emanating from our hotel room’s flat screen TV. Yes, we’re on land as the only guests in a now closed boutique hotel whose owner died unexpectedly before our arrival, and whose staff soon thereafter deserted as their salaries became delinquent with the hotel’s helm in dispute and unoccupied.
I believe what follows classifies as a cautionary tale, appropriate for the “advisor” portion of this magazine’s moniker. It’s difficult but not impossible to purchase a boat from afar. A custom built one-of-a-kind craft adds to the jeopardy but is certainly achievable with due diligence. I’ve had a positive experience with a similar transaction in the past. I studied photographs, read magazine articles, perused books, inspected line drawings, watched videos and corresponded with the broker, builder and respected and knowledgeable experts in the field.
We bit the bullet, signed a purchase contract, wired a deposit and flew thousands of miles with trains and buses added on to boot for a customary sea trial before taking possession of a beautifully maintained sixteen-year-old wooden boat. As we walked down the dock towards her slip, we were confident we’d made the right choice as the countless coats of varnish highlighted her matched mahogany grain detailing her double-ender hull form from bow to stern—the two carbon fiber masts serving as proud exclamation marks! She was a beauty, no doubt about it. After thoroughly inspecting the boat inside and out we released her tethers and departed the marina with the single cylinder diesel providing the dissonant overture.
We quickly hoisted the two equally-sized gaff rigged sails from their wishbone boom nests and turned the key to silence the engine. It was unusually hot and there was barely a breath of air, but we were able to achieve a knot or two and examine the sails and the cat’s cradle of control lines running over the cabin top through various turning blocks and fair leads. I was especially interested to witness the novel ballasted centerboard system that bisected the companionway slides with a water tight trunk open to the sea and sky. I felt it was more appropriate to call it a 660-pound weighted daggerboard. It traveled vertically with the assistance of a four-part tackle system that ran to a housetop single speed self tailing winch. Have you guessed that it is indeed this clever apparatus that resulted in the unpleasant awakening from our dream-like state?
We turned off the wind and I asked the owner to lift the board. He grabbed an oversized winch handle and I watched him begin the arduous task of lifting the all important appendage. I took over to get a better understanding of the load and my initial impression was that the strain was too great for a crucial component that would require adjustment not only while sailing, but also while flirting in the shallows. The sharpie should be able to transition to only a foot of draft by lifting the rudder and board vertically. That ability also lets her rest on the beach or soft bottom without complaint.
The broker joined us when we returned to the slip and he was anxious to hear our impressions. My wife and I responded positively as the initial spell cast by Sharp-End still had us in her grasp. The fact that we were also suffering from nine hours of jet lag and too many hours in the hot sun also added to our addled brains. However, I did say I was dissatisfied with the stiffness of the lifting rudder and the amount of effort and time required to raise the board. Representing the seller’s interests (or so he thought ) the broker was quite dismissive of my concerns, stating that the boat had been in the water unused for a few months and after a few lowerings and raisings, both would improve immensely, as the marine growth was most likely the culprit. My wife and I were skeptical and reiterated our unease by email the following day. The broker responded that the board and rudder functioned as designed and they’d be fine after we put them through their paces with frequent use. He also suggested that we change to an electric winch or winch handle, or a two-speed winch, to fix our perceived problem at our expense. The owner joined in the conversation by letting it be known he was offended I had insinuated there was a flaw with his boat. He’d never had an issue, although he basically kept the board in the down position for the majority of its time in the water. I politely suggested that wouldn’t be the way we utilized it and our plans for the boat included sailing in skinny water. I recommended that a meeting with the builder to discuss possible remedies would be necessary before we could commit to completing the purchase the following week.
The builder is a first rate chap and was happy to sit with us and brainstorm. He told us that raising the board with its 300 kilos of lead had been a slow and difficult process from the beginning but he had followed the naval architect’s design and advice. He said the owner hadn’t been concerned with the performance, but he agreed with our appraisal. A satisfactory solution wasn’t easy, inexpensive or guaranteed. The owner still felt we were being unreasonable since what I considered a design flaw had served him well for 16 years.
We were uncomfortable with the amount of time and effort it would take to adjust the daggerboard with a two-speed winch and we certainly wouldn’t entertain anything electric, so it seemed we were at an impasse. We agreed to contemplate the predicament overnight and communicate in the morning before our scheduled 1300 meeting for the closing. We awoke after another fitful night of sleep in our Twilight Zone hotel and sent off an email to the owner and broker saying we were not willing to take the risk or the expense to purchase the boat in her current condition. The fact that we were thousands of miles from home and had no ability to effect any repairs on our own and only a limited amount of time to implement them was certainly consequential. The broker and seller showed no signs they were willing to undertake any action to resolve the highlighted inequities. I requested our funds be wired back to our account, as per the purchase agreement, and informed them that the sale was off.
Within a couple of hours I received a phone call from the broker saying he and the seller had invested a lot of time in this failed transaction so they would be keeping the ten percent deposit. With my wife on the sidelines attempting to keep me calm, I informed him we were the ones who travelled thousands of miles and paid many thousands of dollars for airline tickets and hotel accommodations. The seller’s and his preparation paled in comparison regarding time, expense and energy. He countered that my unprofessional opinion of the boat’s deficiencies gave them the right to retain the deposit. I highlighted the portion of the contract that stated the boat was in perfect order and if it was determined that even a single euro was required to bring it up to standard, we could void the agreement and recover all our funds. I added that if he wished, I could employ a surveyor to highlight the necessary expenditures to fulfill his language requirements to the letter but that would entail even more of his precious time.
Suffice it to say that he did wire all our funds that afternoon but he was less than professional or pleasant throughout the process. It would have been quite costly and time consuming for us to hire a lawyer and I imagine he was banking on us walking away without a fight, but I was in no mood to be taken advantage of after enduring the disappointment of yet another my sailing plans evaporating into the ether.
For now, we’ll tour part of this reclaimed portion of the planet so we’re able to depart and have a positive opinion of these “nether” lands. •SCA•
Sailing such a boat with the board up may be dangerous. especially if so much weight is needed for righting moment. A jibe or broach can result in capsize or sinking
https://forums.sailinganarchy.com/threads/s2-7-9-daggerboard-limitations.1628/
Apples and oranges here. A sharpie is meant to be sailed in skinny water. The idea of having a heavily weighted board necessary to keep her on her feet in anything more than moderate conditions and having inappropriate lifting gear is either a design issue or an owner issue. Did the owner have her built as designed? "I only sail in deep water" is not a justification for creating a problem.
I wonder whether the owner had the design modified to justify more sail area than the original concept. The article states that the boat is gaff rigged. Were the gaffs tall or short curved gaffs in the Dutch style? [I first saw the Dutch gaffs during OpSail '86.]
Had the designer done any similar shallow water boats previously? Bear in mind that many, if not most, shallow water boats in that part of the North Sea are set up with leeboards, which come with their own set of design criteria.
It appears that the concept is a bastardization of two sets of design criteria from opposite sides of the ocean.
By sticking to your guns, you dodged a bullet.